The girls start school and Fiona eases them into femininity
 

The Challenge: Part 2
By Tyler

---

 
Fiona came into my room early the next morning and woke me up. She was carrying a cardboard box into my room and she began to pull out some pink plastic packages. I was groggy, but I sat up and saw some Barbie dolls, and I was intrigued. Yet, to my surprise, they were black Barbie dolls.

"This is Ballerina Barbie," said Fiona, showing me a black doll in a pink tutu and tights, "and she will be your new best friend." I took the doll, happy to accept the gift.

I looked in the box and saw barettes, fake jewelry, and toys that were clearly aimed towards 7 year old girls. I was given a dollhouse with all black dolls for the inside. Fiona said, "For a couple weeks, we will be living in little girl mode. You basically have to discard all your male traits and relearn everything girls do from the ground up."

I can't say I was terribly excited to have tea parties with my brother, but I would just accept. Fiona put up a couple posters of Barack Obama, Kanye West, and Jamie Foxx. As a white boy I had totally been for McCain, but now, I was beautiful Brandy. "From now on," we have to get you totally thinking like a boy-crazy black girl."

"Am I supposed to flirt with or date boys at school," I asked?

"That is up to you," Fiona said to me, "But the more you embrace being Brandy Washington and act like a teen girl, the better you are likely to do with the viewing public. In any case, we have to get you dressed for school. I have your uniform here for you at your vanity."

It was a schoolgirl uniform with a blue button-up blouse, a plaid skirt, and mary-jane shoes. Fiona told me that I had the option of wearing black or white tights on a daily basis. I was told that the school was a public school with a uniform policy.

So I grabbed a pink bra and pink panties and got them on quickly. I had to put on a kotex as Fiona ordered. I was hungry and wanted breakfast. I was hoping that Monique had gotten into domestic goddess mode and had started on some waffles. I decided on black tights since I had been in white tights for the last two days and pulled them on. Fiona put some makeup on me and brushed my hair. I put on my skirt, blouse, blazer, and cute little schools, and I caught an image in the mirror of a cute little black girl ready for her first day of school!

My brother came out of his room at the same time as I did, only since he was younger, he had to wear a jumper and he had chosen white tights. I walked into the kitchen and saw dad wearing a blue dress with an apron and he was slaving over the stove, trying to master the art of cooking which he had no experience with. Fiona was in a skirt suit and was getting ready to go to "work." My dad turned around and saw his hot little daughter and sad, "Wow Brandy, you make one cute girl."

"Thanks mom," I replied coquettishly. I was flattered that dad thought that I was feminine. I knew I would have no trouble passing.

Fiona only let me eat one pancake with syrup since I now had to stay slim. Dad packed me and Kendra in the minivan after we had eaten and he dropped us off at school, giving us each a kiss. I'm sure that the cameras were eating it all up.

So once I was going through my morning classes, I didn't think anything of sitting there as a black girl. The only thing kind of strange was the feeling of the kotex against my crotch and the tightness of my hose, reminding me of my girlishness. It had almost kind of skipped my head. My voice was still husky so I just said little. Fortunately, I wasn't asked to say anything longer than a sentence. At the school, though, there were a ton of cute girls. I tried to keep an eye out for any of the guys in my dance class but it was a huge school and I didn't see anyone.

At lunchtime, I went to the cafeteria and purchased a ham and cheese sandwich. I was going to find a quiet place to sit alone so I could hide better but as I walked past a table full of black girls, they called me over and invited me to sit down. I smoothed my skirt and crossed my legs.

"Heya Girlfriend, was your name," one of them said?

"Brandy," I replied, "I moved here from Tenessee."

"Hey, wasn u in my ballet class," another one of them replied?

"I sure was," I was quite nervous. But it was clear that this black girl, Krystal, really was female.

"Yous be a good dancer," she said, "Cheerleading tryouts are on Thursday. You should totally come. U'd definitely make our squad."

So I had gotten a head start! One of my challenges was going to be to be a cheerleader, and here I had basically an open invitation. I was definitely in the lead. The money was mine.

I kept my feminine composure and said, "I'm so exicted, I was a cheerleader at my old school." Even though I hadn't been I had had a crush on one of the cheerleaders and because I followed her around I had learned basically everything and could recite the cheers she did in her sleep.

I had made friends with the clique of black princesses, and I was on a high. Those girls were much nicer than I had expected. When I was a boy, the black girls had always seemed so alienating and threatening.

I got to change into a T-Shirt and Short Shorts at Gym Class that afternoon inside the girls locker room. It was really cool playing basketball with a bunch of girls instead of rough guys and I dominated the court. I just had to start shooting the ball like a girl or serving the ball in Volleyball with that girlish serve. But I had to be discreet about watching the girls change inside the locker room, lest I be branded a lesbian. I didn't really want anyone staring as I put my kotex pad back in. I put my tights back on and waited for my dad to pick me up.

When I got in the minivan with my little brother, my dad asked me, "So how was school?"

I said excitedly, "I was already invited to cheer tryouts. How was your day?"

"Fiona worked with me endlessly. I spent all morning cleaning when I used to play golf. There is so much to learn about being a woman. And I have to start work at Hooters in one week. When we get home, Fiona has us scheduled for a tea party, than another feminine lesson, and then we are going to practice some dance moves. And I am already exhausted."

When we pulled in the driveway, I jumped out of the car and ran up to my room. I decided to spend some time modeling some of my outfits. I had alot of tops that were clearly designed for black girls to wear. I put on a couple pairs of really tight studded pants that rode low around my waist. Friday, of course, was a free day at school, when students could wear whatever they wanted. On thursday, students could wear dressy outfits to school, but boys had to wear a shirt and tie and girls had to make themselves up. But now, I was so on my way towards becoming a ghetto princess. Even though I had hated rap previously, I put some rap music on my radio and danced around to it, shaking my butt. I collapsed, laughing, onto my bed. Then, I took my ballerina barbie and a small brush and spent 20 minutes just doing her hair. Yes, Mike was vanishing and Brandy was emerging. Mike would never have done all of this girly stuff. But, I didn't miss sports, or video games or anything like this. I was having alot of fun trying on all my tights and playing wih my dolls and toys. Ballet was the overwhelming thought in my mind.

I also had received some black Bratz Dolls and I paid close attention to their outfits and hairstyles and began to consider adopting them. Fiona had told us that soon we would go shopping at the mall and we could pick out some girls' clothes that we liked.

So around 5PM Fiona came home and called her happy little family together in the living room. My dad had gone and changed into a French Maid's uniform and he was wearing white tights under a very short skirt and apron. I figured we were going to play tea-party. I had already pulled on a navy blue leotard with an attached flowery skirt over my white tights, and my brother was wearing a forest green leotard and white tights.

"Kendra, Monique, and Brandy," said Fiona, "I'm going to need you to change. You girls can keep your white tights and ballet slippers on but I will need you all to go into the den and change into the leotards I set out for you. We eagerly went in to see what surprise was in store for us.

On the table were laid out three leotards, each in the correct size to let us know which ebony princess it was for. For Kendra, he had a light-blue leotard laid out for him with a Disney promo image of Cinderella on the front. My dad had a teen-sized aqua leotard with a scene from the Little Mermaid and Ariel depicted on the front. And for me, to my intense excitement, I saw a pink leotard with Pocohontas on the front. I had thought that the leotards that the Moslem girls were wearing yesterday were just so adorable and now I was actually getting a chance to wear one and just be ever so girly. I couldn't wait to wear one to my ballet class tomorrow. I guess Fiona was giving them to us so we could feel like grade-school girls and rewire our brains to think like little sweethearts. It was going to be tough to take a strong, breadwinning man like my dad, break him down, and rebuild him up as a mother, woman, and domestic goddess. But dad looked like a kid in a candy store when he saw Ariel on the leotard he was destined to wear as Monique Washington, mother of two darling teenage colored girls.

"Mommy, I'm so happy I get to be a little princess," I shrieked excitedly. It was not a desire to please the cameras but a genuinely girly desire that was overtaking me. I guess the hormones were working some magic on me. Being in tights all the time was confusing my brain.

My dad was an ebony goddess as he pulled off his Maid's dress, revealing a red lacey bra, and he took his little leotard and put his legs into the holes. He pulled the fitting nylon garment up over his tights and over his shoulders. He wiggled his arms into the sleeves. It was a little ridiculous; a grown black woman dressing up like an 8 year old ballerina. But dad had to learn how to be a little girl if he was ever going to be successful and this was going to do the trick. It was just so beautiful, a sable princess with long legs in tights wearing the cutest little leotard. It was hard to believe that he ever could be a father or a man with the smooth crotch of his leotard and his girly, effeminate actions. You could see Ariel the mermaid under his black breasts and I knew that the man my dad once was was gone forever. I imagined him in a tutu dancing Giselle on a packed stage, being held in the arms of a male danseur. There were a couple guys in the adult ballet class and I wondered if he had caught their eye.

I was so transfixed watching him that I missed my little bro pulling on his cinderella leotard. His leotard had a small attached skirt, and when he finally had it on he looked more like a 7 year old girl than a 13 year old girl. Kendra had no qualms at all about ditching his boyhood; he was far more secure than I. My dad pulled my brother's masses of curly hair back into a ponytail. It was such a sweet mother/daughter bonding moment that I knew we could never experience as males. Here we were, three straight guys, getting to be princesses and ballerinas and play with barbies and have tea parites! Reliving life, with my dad as my mom and a little sister was going to be great. He seemed so much nicer and more attentive when he was in female mode.

So while I was standing there in just my bra, ivory tights, and panties, I grabbed my Pocohontas leotard and pulled it up my body and wiggled it onto my busty frame. I modeled for a second in the mirror and was joined by my dad and brother. We all struck sexy poses in the mirror and blew faux kisses. We stuck out our legs like show-girls and did some provocative hip swaying and what we thought were stripper moves. We looked like three black teenage girls trying to dress like little 8 year old ballerinas, and we loved it. I thought that we just looked so sexy and adorable. I was sure that this scene would find its way all over Youtube.

"Sorry to interrupt ladies," said Fiona as she came in with a digital camera. She snapped about 100 photos of all of us and we struck poses for her that were borderline obscene. I got to hold my dad and little brother and we snapped group photos. We gave up everything for the moment.
"I thought you girls would just love this," said Fiona.

"Girls," my dad said, "I'm so glad that we get to have this experience. We shared a big group hug. This could have never happened back in the real world." Even though dad might have wanted to resist what was happening to him and keep his manhood, he had to be brave and set an example for his sons. Doing this now would make him a stronger man later on in life. It was time for us to take our girly spray and we happily took our hormones. We couldn't become big girls fast enough

Fiona brought us back into the living room where she had a little tea-party set up. Us girls sat down and had the best time, taking turns and being polite. Dad was such a classy lady pouring tea for us. His bust looked absoultely great in his little-mermaid Leotard. I felt absolutely great in my Pochontas leotard and I noticed for the first time what an awesome female figure I really had. Living as Brandy was so natural, and I didn't want to ever have to give it up; I was just so damn sexy, like the girls I admired. Now I was a hot girl. I loved how my tights brought attention to my meaty and shapely legs. All of us guys looked good with our big fake boobs, and we couldn't wait to grow our own.

"So do yo boys like being girls," My father asked us?

"I'm just doing it to win," I said, but I was starting to feel like I was lying to myself.

"I love being a princess," said Kendra. "It is so much more fun than being a stupid boy and having to fight all the time."

I asked my dad, "do you think that you'll be able to go back to being Joe?"

"I'm just playing a game sweetie, but I just love how close we are as a family now that we are all girls!"

Dad poured some more tea. I noticed that he had painted his nails red and apparently Fiona had given him a manicure today.

Fiona came back in and began to give us another feminine lesson. She showed us all of her hair and makeup tips and from now on expected us to do our own basic beauty regimen. She would still assist us if we needed help(which we knew we would), but we felt good knowing that we were moving along. She had my brother and I practice putting braids in eachother's hair and we practiced using things like eyeliner for a couple hours. It was fun getting to put mascara and lipstick on dad, he was having the time of his life doing my pretty face, much like when we used to play football together in the backyard. Fiona told us beauty tips specific for women of color such as ourselves. Finally, she introduced us to L'Eggs Brown Sugar pantyhose, and said that it was hose designed just for black women and that we would wear them when we started getting out and mingling. One thing was clear, we were no longer white men but black women, and we were only thinking of ourselves as Monique, Brandy, and Kendra Washington.

So we had had feminine life skills pounded into our heads all evening, driving out our male thoughts, and then Fiona had us line up in the living room. We were still in our Disney Princess leotards, and she began to explain to us what we were doing in Ballet Class yesterday and making sense of the dance moves and ballet positions. It was great to receive individual tutoring, since I wanted to impress Zafira and the older girls with how good of a dancer I was. Then, Fiona went over some basic Cheer moves and showed us some ballroom dancing steps(for women of course.) Dad was really catching on and I couldn't believe how feminine him and my brother were becoming. It was great watching Fiona help my dad with ballet positions that I had already mastered. It felt good to finally beat him at something.

Fiona was so loving and tender when she helped me and my brother learn our dance steps. She was so good at comforting us when helping us dress up. Fiona worked so well with my delicate little brother, who needed a strong female role model. It was so cute when she would help him pull on his pantyhose and dresses when we had to change to go somewhere. My only concern was how Kendra Washington would adjust back to being Kevin Thompson.

I wished I could call my mom or my sister but we had no phone and we would be kicked off the show if we called the outside world to tell them what was happening to us. My mom thought that we were all rafting down the Amazon river. In reality, we were developing into full-fledged women.

It was about 9 PM when we finally finished and I still had to do my homework. I was still in my Pocohontas leotard and I collapsed on my bed, dead tired.

###################

The next day at school I had noticed that my voice was starting to sound higher when I would speak. When I was changing for gym, I felt as if my arms were somewhat thinner.

I caught this little white boy ogling me in science class, so I smiled back at him. He couldn't take his eyes of of my ebony legs in my sexy white tights. It was weird to think that I could give a guy a boner. But Fiona had told me that I would be an absolute boy magnet.

When I got home, I knew that we all had ballet that evening, so I pulled on my white tights and I put the Pocohontas leotard back on. Before that, much to my excitement, I had discovered a pair of Winnie the Pooh pantes in my underwear drawer and put them on, and I was wearing them under my tights and bodysuit. I had a huge urge to wear the panties under my tights, but i did not want the pantyline to show, so I looked for something to cover up with. I put on a pair of tight red shorts that spelled out DANCE across the butt. I spent several minutes modeling in the mirror and I coudn't fathom how I had been a red-blooded American white boy not one week ago! Now I was a little girl to die for. I grabbed my purse and dance bag. I wouldn't feel so uncomfortable from no on because I was wearing a bra and I wouldn't bounce uncontrollably like I had last week.

When we all got to the ballet school, Zafira was excited to see me. I told her that I had gotten to practice the dance a little bit and had memorized alot of the moves. Zafira was wearing a pink leotard with blue trim and white tights, in addition to her headcover. "You look cute today," she said. I had been worried about what the older girls might think seeing a teen girl nearly of driving age wearing a Pocohontas leotard, but I decided to throw caution to the wind and go for it. I would never hear the end of it if they found out about my Winnie the Pooh panties. I was only going to get to be Brandy for six months, so I would enjoy it. My little brother had put on a black leotard with an attached skirt over a pair of black tights. Looking at him, I would have never suspected that he could be a boy.

When my brother danced, he looked really cute because his little skirt would fly up and reveal the bottom of his leotard to the world when he twirled. But he just looked so angelic, a 13 year old boy living a ballerina fantasy.

So confidently, I was able to do the barre work and warm-up exercises extremely gracefully. When we got to the actual dancing, I loved getting to use Jazz Hands. I could tell Zafira was impressed with how good I performed the little song and dance routine and I was starting to wonder if I might have a future as a ballet dancer. We looked so cute singing and dancing the little song together. I felt much more comfortable around the younger dancers than the older dancers, since I was too inexperienced as a girl thus far. My dad was watching us through the window with tears of joy. I remember when he used to watch my football practice. Now, I would be a cheerleader in the snazzy halftime jazz routine. I noticed that I was starting to walk with a sassy sway of my hips and I was starting to adopt a more feminine posture and body language.

I did little pirouettes and twirls and arabesques. I loved just leaping and frolicing around the floor in my tights. The feeling was unbelieveable.

When the older girls came out, however, they kind of gave me looks of disapproval for wearing such a babyish leotard. So perhaps I had shot any romantic chance I had with them. No girl wants a sissy guy who dresses like a little princess. They don't even like run of the mill crossdressers. But if I won the show, I would be famous and have girls lining up at my door.

I had taken off my red dance shorts to show my behind. I knew that my panties were showing under my leotard and through my tights but I needed more freedom of movement. Just as I was feeling extremely awkward, Krystal bailed me out when she walked in the ballroom and began to talk to me. She was in a pink leotard and pink tights, but she said to me, "A Pocohontas leotard, I guess you want to look cute today."

She could tell I was embarassed, but I said, "Well, all my other clothes are in the wash, so I had to pull one out of my stock from when I was a little girl."

"Relax," she said, "I like to play dress-up too. You can come over later sometime and we can try on my clothes."

"Cool," I replied.

"Well, I can't wait to see you at tryouts. I'm meeting my boyfriend later," she said. So I guess I had no chance of being her lover or whatever.

Without thinking, I said, "Can you help me find a cute guy around here?"

"Sure, she said, I'll introduce you around at school."

So I was petrified at the thought of being thrown into the dating fire with some horny teenage boys. What would they do when they discovered my true gender. But in a way, I was kind of excited about exploring my feminine side. I would love to date a girl my age, but what chance would I have if they thought that I was a black girl?

In the mirror, all I saw was a beautiful black girl at a ballet class. I thought that I had a better chance with Zafira, since she probably looked up to me since I was a few years older. She asked me if I would be her BFF and I accepted.

Today I was performing the steps with the older girls but I was doing a better job keeping up than last time. What would the guys on my wrestling team say if they saw me now, prancing in nylon? I bet they would want my digits.

Halfway through class, however, emergency struck and I had to use the bathroom. I had to do a #2. I told Fiona, "I have to go Poo-Poo." I didn't intend to sound so babyish. She was in her basic ballet gear of a simple black leotard and black tights, to separate herself from the girly-girls.

Fiona grabbed my hand in the middle of an exercise and led me off towards the girls room. I was still clumsy when it came to pulling off my leotard and pulling down my tights, so I needed Fiona to help me. But I really just wanted another opportunity to bond with Fiona.

We entered the girls room and walked to one of the stalls. Fiona went in there with me and assisted me in taking down my leotard. She peeled my leotard down to my waist. Then, she took my tights and pulled my hose and my leotard down to my knees. I felt so helpless, yet, good. She took down my shaper panties to free my bottom and I sat down to go poop, with all of my girly clothes still gathered at my knees. Fiona watched as I struggled to go.

"All done," I said, as I stood up. It was my natural instinct to wipe my butt but Fiona gently took my hand away from the tissue paper. She told me that I was being treated like a 5 year old, and she wiped my butt for me. It was strangely erotic and I developed an erection which Fiona noticed.

"Its all right sweetie," she said, "You can take care of that when we get home."

It took a few minutes for me to settle down and once I was calm Fiona pulled my shaper panties back up to tuck me in. Then, she got my tights back up and she got me back into my leotard. Satisfied, I went out to finish class.

After class, I was excited, since Fiona informed me that tomorrow all of the males would have our first feminine challenge of the show! All that went on that night, however, was my brother and me watched excitedly as dad modeled the Hooters girl outfit that he would wear to work! My dad was nervous thinking that he would have to flirt with guys as a waitress but deep down we knew he would do just fine and we gave him plenty of hugs to reassure him.

To Be Continued.